


Disney Magic

by thepinupchemist



Series: Disney Magic [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Disney, Disney References, Disney World & Disneyland, First Time, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Teenagers, castiel is a disney nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6110080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are each other's first everything. Before their road trip to Disneyland, they have their first time on Castiel's Mickey Mouse sheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disney Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theimportanceofbeingvictoria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimportanceofbeingvictoria/gifts).



They’ve known each other since they were little kids, way back when the Winchesters moved to Colorado because John got stationed at the Buckley Air Force Base. They didn’t live on base, instead opting to play house in a standard, every-house-is-the-same suburban cul-de-sac where Mary could grow her roses and Dean and Sam could ride bikes up and down the street in safety even long after the sun set.

Dean met Castiel Novak on his first day at his new elementary school. Mr. Singer arranged the desks in his third grade classroom in groups of four, and Dean sat across from a red-haired girl with a Star Wars backpack named Charlie Bradbury, kitty-corner to a solemn-looking boy named Kevin Tran, and right next to blue-eyed, dark-haired Castiel Novak.

Castiel Novak had a Toy Story backpack and shared his markers with Dean when Dean didn’t have the right shade of green for his project. That was when Dean decided that Cas belonged to him, that Cas would be his best friend and no one would change his mind about it. He took Cas’ hand when the class lined up by desk-cluster for lunchtime. They ate lunch side by side (Cas out of a plastic 101 Dalmatians lunchbox, Dean from his velcro-top lunch bag that still smelled a little like the Cheez-Its and Capri Sun he spilled in there two weeks ago before he moved away), and then Dean dragged Cas out to the playground and they spent their whole recess together, climbing up higher than they were allowed to and jumping off of the swings when the bell rang to summon them back inside to class.

They were best friends for a while before Dean scrapped up the courage to tell Cas that he liked both boys and girls, a whispered confession told in their sleeping bags, tucked inside the tent that Dean set up in his backyard for their sleepover.

“Is that weird?” Cas had asked, bewildered, “I don’t think I like girls at all. I mean, I don’t think that I get crushes on them. I like hanging out with Charlie and stuff but I’d never want to kiss her. I just like boys. I think about kissing boys a lot.”

So Cas liked boys, and Dean liked boys, but Dean spent a whole year being scared to ask Cas if liking boys meant that Castiel might be willing to like Dean, too. They were playing video games in Dean’s basement when he finally blurted it out:

“We should go to the dance together!”

Thirteen and scared shitless, Dean didn’t expect his best friend to pause his game and turn to say, “I already thought we were doing that.”

“No,” Dean said, stupidly, “I mean, like. I mean like I want to take you to the dance on a date.”

Cas’ face changed, morphed into something soft and surprised from his usual serious expression. He managed only, “Oh,” before Dean leapt forward and pressed an off-center, closed-lipped kiss to Cas’ face. He missed by a mile, landed the kiss on the side of Castiel’s jaw instead of his goal, which was Castiel’s mouth.

“Like Charlie and Dorothy are going?” Castiel asked, breath short like he’d been running for miles.

Dean nodded, “Like that. I have a real bad crush on you, Cas. I think about you all the time. I was…can I try kissing you again? Is that okay?”

Cas didn’t say anything, but he did give Dean a tiny nod.

That was their first real kiss – Dean’s lips brushed over Cas’ so softly that they barely touched at all, but it was enough sensation to make Dean feel like he was tumbling face-first down a really steep, grassy hill. His stomach flip-flopped and Cas smelled like Cheetos and cheap shower gel and everything felt right in the world with his mouth and Cas’ mouth touching like that.

So when eighth grade formal swung around toward the end of their last year as students in junior high school, Dean wore a shirt that he tucked into his slacks. He combed his hair and even spritzed a little of Cas’ big brother’s cologne on his clothes. He let his mom and Cas’ mom take pictures of them with stupid goofy smiles on their faces in their fancy clothes, and Mary Winchester drove them to their school in her minivan. Dean and Cas danced together in the school gym, danced together for every song both slow and fast.

At the end of the night, Dean kissed Cas again in a dark corner of the gymnasium, away from the eyes of the volunteer chaperones and their friends.

But it was Castiel that asked, “Can we be boyfriends now?”

And Dean that answered, “Can we really?”

They could really, and they did. Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak entered high school hand in hand, and everyone knew that they belonged to one another. No one really bothered to mess with them – rumor had it that Dean gave some kid named Zachariah a black eye back in the seventh grade when he dared speak a bad word about Castiel, and no one wanted to test Dean’s right hook out for size knowing that. No one quite knew if Cas’ fists packed the same punch, but something about the sharp look in his eyes and the set to his jaw said Cas Novak was just as scrappy as his boyfriend.

Even if Cas Novak did have a Disney backpack at the ripe age of fourteen years old, and even if the kid did seem to wear nothing but Disney-themed t-shirts, and had every single pair of Disney character themed Vans available for purchase.

**X**

Cas starts working at the Disney Store at the mall a mere month after he turns sixteen. His bedroom amps up from vaguely Disney-themed to a veritable jungle of Disney merchandise, from framed movie posters slung on the walls wherever space is available, to the Chesire cat pillow on his bed.

Dean turns sixteen a month after Castiel and starts working a far less glamorous job as a clerk at the gas station a couple blocks from his house. His mom keeps telling him how proud she is, but the truth is that Dean just wants to save up money so that he could surprise Cas with the world’s best third anniversary gifts: tickets to Disneyland. Disney _land_ , not Disney _world_. Cas is very adamant about his preference and while Dean won’t pretend to understand it, he doesn’t begrudge the guy his opinions.

So Dean puts money away one minimum-wage paycheck at a time and bides his time until May, when three years before at their eighth grade formal Cas asked if they were boyfriends. He co-conspires with Cas’ annoying older brother Gabriel, because Dean knows that Mary and Naomi aren’t going to go for the suggestion that two sixteen year olds drive themselves from Colorado to California without supervision.

Then Sam finds Dean out one weeknight when Dean’s supposed to be writing his report on Huck Finn for his English class but is actually trolling around the internet looking at the hotels in and around Disneyland. Dean really wants to splurge on the Grand Californian, but he doesn’t think that he’ll have that kind of money in time. He’s about to settle for Paradise Pier when Sam exclaims:

“Hey, you’re going to Disneyland?!”

Dean whirls around and lets out a hard, “ _SHH_ ,” even though Cas is safe at home, probably actually writing his report (unlike Dean), and nowhere close to being able to hear the plotting for a Disney trip.

“I wanna go,” Sam whines.

“I’m taking Cas this summer,” Dean says, “You know, like a romance thing.”

Sam eyes Dean and says, “Um, mom so isn’t going to go for that.”

“We’re not going _alone_ ,” Dean replies with a roll of his eyes, “Jesus, Sam. Gabe’s gonna be with us.”

“What? If Gabe is going, I wanna go,” Sam complains.

“Gabe is eighteen,” Dean says back, “You’re twelve.”

“I wanna go,” Sam repeats.

“Tough titties,” Dean responds tartly.

But Dean’s a softie at heart, so of course he ends up clicking out of the window to reserve a room at Paradise Pier, and purchases a fourth ticket to Disneyland instead. Inviting Sam along will be another factor in Dean’s favor – Mary’ll be way more likely to let them all go if Dean’s invited not only Castiel’s brother, but his own brother, too. Besides, Sammy’s never been to Disneyland. At least, he’s never been when he’s old enough to remember. Last time the Winchesters ventured that far west, Sam was only four. Dean remembers that trip – he was eight, and it was amazing. Sam’s only got pictures.

As annoying as Sam might be, Dean loves his brother anyway. Besides, maybe Dean can get a picture of Sam (and his ever-longer mane of hair) with Rapunzel. That’ll be one for the scrapbooks.

**X**

Dean reserves the room at Paradise Pier.

Naomi takes a little convincing, but Gabe takes care of that.

Mary says yes.

**X**

Dean takes Cas out to get burgers for the big reveal. Dad lets him take the Impala to pick Cas up outside his house, a modest, gray-blue home at the heart of the suburbs that much like Dean’s house had a rose garden ringing around the front of the porch. When he opens the front door, Cas pulls Dean forward by the collar of his cotton Led Zeppelin t-shirt and smothering his mouth in an enthusiastic kiss.

“Hey there,” Dean laughs when Cas lets him go, “What was that for?”

“Just wanted to kiss you,” Cas answers, and pecks a second kiss to Dean’s cheek for good measure, “Where are we going?”

Dean loops his arm around Cas’ waist as they walk toward the curb, where he parked the Impala. He noses at Cas’ hair. It smells good, like some organic, woodsy shampoo that he probably bought from Whole Foods or Sprouts or some shit. Dean says, “Just getting some Smashburger. Nothing fancy, I know, but I got a surprise when we get there. A little something-something for the big three years, you know?”

Cas hums, “I feel like we’re the only people at that have been with the same person for three years at sixteen.”

“It’s not that weird, is it?” asks Dean, “There have gotta be some people. Whatever. If other people were dating you they’d want to stick around for three years too.”

Cas smacks Dean’s shoulder before they climb into the car. The nearest Smashburger isn’t far – it sits nestled near one of the biggest intersections close to Dean and Cas’ general area, but Dean’s never seen the place full to the brim. They find a parking spot no-problemo and after ordering their burgers and shakes, snag a booth toward the back corner of the restaurant, because it’ll be quieter and Cas likes that.

“You said you have a surprise?” Cas says.

Abruptly, Dean feels nervousness edge in at his belly. He licks his lips and says, “Give me a sec. I’ll pull it up on my phone.” He fumbles with the droid in his hand and flicks to the e-mail screen, where he starred the confirmation e-mail for his Disneyland tickets. Dean brings the e-mail up and, swallowing the knot in his throat, slides the phone across the table.

Cas brows soar high on his forehead when he picks up Dean’s phone to read. He glances from Dean’s face to the e-mail and back again and says, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, face hot, “Our moms are on board, but only because Gabriel’s driving us and Sammy’s coming too. I hope that’s cool. I think they just wanted us chaperoned. Your mom thinks we’re banging at like, all hours of the day.” And the truth of it is that Dean and Cas haven’t gone further than using their hands and mouths on each other. Dean supposes that those things probably count on some level, but sticking Tab A into Slot B is usually what people consider _sex_. And he’s pretty sure that’s what Naomi Novak thinks that they’re doing.

Cas surges across the table and plants a hard, wet kiss on Dean’s mouth. Dean makes a noise of surprise but relaxes into it a moment later, warmed from the guts out at the feel of his boyfriend’s lips on his. They only break apart when somebody clears their throat, and they see the pimpled Smashburger employee holding their milkshakes and burgers on a tray.

“I apologize,” Castiel says, “He just bought me tickets to Disneyland and I wanted to express my gratitude.”

“Aw, shucks, Cas,” Dean wryly replies.

Cas squints at Dean and says, “You behave yourself. We’re in public.”

“Excuse me,” Dean says, “I am not the one that just smacked a porn kiss on his boyfriend in a burger joint. Just sayin’.”

Cas rolls his eyes, but leans back and gives their server the space to set out their food.

Now all they gotta do is wait for their sophomore year of high school to come to a close, for the summer to begin, and for the end of June to swing into sight – and then they’ll be at Disneyland. Dean can’t wait to see the look on Cas’ face when they get there.

It’s really a pity that Dean and Cas can’t go own their own, because in all honestly Dean would love to have a Disneyland sex-venture. He thinks his mom doesn’t mind as long as they’re safe (or so the condoms she put on his bedspread a couple months ago would suggest), but Naomi likes to believe that her son will be as pure as fresh-fallen snow until the day that he gets married. Unfortunately for Naomi, Dean has already been all over her naked son. Just not, you know, _in_ her naked son.

But hey, maybe Dean will work up the courage to change that sometime soon. He likes the idea of going further with Cas, not only because he’s a teenage guy and sex sounds amazing basically always, but because Castiel is his favorite person on the planet and the kind of person that Dean would love to share that intimacy with. It’s almost scary to think of things that way, but Dean can’t imagine thinking any other way about Cas and their thing together. Relationship, whatever.

Dean may be sixteen, and maybe as such he’s as naïve as everyone tells him he is, but he wants to share a whole host of firsts with Castiel. Firsts and lasts. When Dean pictures the future, he can’t imagine a road ahead without Castiel sitting in the passenger seat beside him.

**X**

A duffel bag lays open on Dean’s bedspread, full to the brim with clean, neatly folded clothes that his mom watched him pack while hovering over his shoulder. She made him bring extra underwear and several more t-shirts than there would be days in their trip and Dean wants to be annoyed about it but knows that his mom’s probably right about what to pack because moms usually are.

Dean reaches for his phone and checks the time. It’s past eleven at night, late enough that his mom and dad should be in bed. Sammy’s probably awake from excitement over the trip tomorrow, but he won’t rat Dean out if Dean sneaks out now. For just having turned thirteen, Sam’s a perceptive kid. He knows that Dean and Cas want to _do it_ (as Sam so eloquently put it a few nights ago) and expressed his support with the caveat that Dean should use a condom and make sure that he isn’t pressuring Castiel into doing anything that he doesn’t want to do.

Which is ridiculous, quite frankly, because if anyone is pressuring anyone else, it’s Cas pressuring Dean. Cas has wanted to _do it_ for months and months but Dean hasn’t been ready because…well, he’s nervous. Cas wants to be on bottom, which means that Dean is in charge of taking care of him and making sure that it doesn’t hurt. He’s done a solid amount of discreet research on incognito Google Chrome tabs, and maybe…

Maybe Dean is ready for this.

Dean checks the time on his phone again. Only a couple minutes have passed, but he doesn’t know that he can sit around and wait any longer, or he’s going to lose his nerve. He shoves open the bottom drawer on the side of his desk and extracts the unopened box of condoms that his mom left him with a Post-It that said “Be safe!” and had a smiley face above “Love, Mom.” Dean fumbles with the packaging and pulls out a string of several condoms. He stuffs them into the pocket of his jeans. He knows he probably won’t need that many condoms, but who knows if he’ll screw up putting the things on?

Predictably, Sam’s bedroom door swings open when Dean tiptoes by.

“Are you sneaking out to see Cas?” he asks.

“No,” Dean replies, “Maybe.”

Sam lifts a brow.

“Yeah, fine. I’m sneaking out to see Cas,” Dean says, “Me and Cas aren’t gonna get to kiss as much when we’re with you toads, so I’m gonna kiss him as much as I can before we go.”

Sam wrinkles his nose and says, “Ew.”

“You asked.”

“Whatever,” Sam replies, “Just don’t do anything stupid. I’m too young to be an uncle.”

“Cas can’t get pregnant, you idiot,” Dean says.

“I know,” Sam says back, “I’m being facetious.”

Dean snorts and leaves on that note, shaking his head. He texts Cas a quick _u have lube right????_ and slips out his front door. He ducks his head down and shuffles down the cul-de-sac. Cas only lives a couple streets over, but the walk feels like forever, especially with the plastic of the condom packets rubbing against Dean’s fingers where he has them stuffed in his pockets.

His phone beeps.

_11:23 Cas: Yes. Why?_

Dean swings onto Cas’ street and texts back _look out ur window nerd_.

Cas’ second story window squeals as it pushes aside. Castiel sticks his head out, and Dean waves from his place on the sidewalk in front of the Novak house. Even with only the dim glow of the streetlight several houses down, Dean can see his boyfriend’s cheeks turn a healthy shade of pink. He stage whispers down to Dean, “Wait, you want to do it right now?”

“Yeah. Why not? Everyone’s asleep, right?”

Cas looks back over his shoulder and then nods. He says, “But if I let you in through the front door, they’ll probably wake up. How are you getting up here?”

“Give me a sec,” Dean replies.

He cards his hands through his hair and lets his gaze flick to the thick-trunked tree in Cas’ front yard. He’s climbed the thing before, but it’s been awhile since Dean had the occasion to shimmy into those branches. He inhales to steel himself before taking off across the green grass at a running start, and launches himself up just high enough to grab the lowest branch of the tree. With a heave of effort, Dean pulls his body up, and Christ on toast, the sex had better be worth almost pulling his arms out of their fucking sockets.

Dean navigates up to the thick branch that intersects with the lip of shingles beneath Castiel’s bedroom window and then wiggles down the length of it. When he leaps down onto the roof, he hears Cas’ breath catch.

“Hey, I’m fine,” Dean says, “See?” He gestures to his intact body, but doesn’t refuse Cas’ hands when he sticks them out the window for Dean to take.

As quietly as he can, Dean steps over Cas’ window sill and into his bedroom. It’s dark inside for the most part, unlit but for a single lamp illuminated on Castiel’s desk that casts the whole room with an orange-yellow, warm glow. Dean toes off his sneakers, then leans down the couple inches to capture Cas’ mouth in his own. Cas tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and Listerine, and for whatever reason, that revs Dean’s engine up more than anything else.

“I can’t believe you just climbed through my window,” Cas tells him, eyes blinking over to where the offending window sits still open, and a gentle summer breeze blows in to tousle Cas’ already sloppy dark hair. The sight makes Dean’s heart clench up something awful, but in a good way. A good awful.

“Let’s close the curtains,” Dean murmurs.

Cas nods and does just that before turning to kiss Dean again. This kiss is more heated, closer to the kisses that they share before Dean sticks his hands down Cas’ jeans or Cas unbuttons Dean’s fly and puts his mouth on Dean’s cock.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Castiel asks him.

Dean nods. He says, “I was just worried…or I guess, like – I _am_ worried that I’m gonna hurt you.”

“Just go slow,” Cas says, “I’ll be fine. If it hurts then I’ll just tell you.”

“Okay,” Dean breathes, and then repeats, “Okay,” before he pulls his t-shirt up over his head by the hem and lets it fall onto Cas’ spotless carpet.

Cas reaches out to run his hands down Dean’s chest, starting at his freckled shoulders and moving down over his nipples. When Cas thumbs at the sensitive flesh, Dean forgets to breathe for a moment, feels his cheeks heat up even though Cas has touched his chest like this plenty of times before. Maybe it’s because Dean knows that this is a prelude to something more serious than messy handjobs or experimental sucking off that it makes him blush, or maybe it’s because he wants everything to be perfect for Castiel and he’s not sure that he’s all that perfect. Probably a little of both, if he’s being honest with himself.

Dean slides his grip down and holds Cas’ waist in his hands, pulling him close enough that they’re standing toe to toe. They kiss again, deeper still, and Cas tongue slides along his own, hot and wet and perfect. Dean breaks away to nuzzle at the space behind Cas’ ear and then kisses his way down Cas’ throat, all the way to the collar of his worn-out gym t-shirt.

“You should take this off,” Dean says.

Cas sips from Dean’s grasp to do just that, casting his t-shirt into the wicker laundry hamper beside his closet door. Already Cas’ chest has tanned from the summer sun, much tanner than Dean is ever able to get. Dean mostly goes freckly first, then sun-kissed by July, and kinda farmer’s tanned by August and the start of the new school year, every year, without fail.

Dean reaches into his pocket and dumps the string of condoms onto Cas’ bedside table, then he goes for the fly of his jeans and shoves them down. An obvious tent protrudes from Dean’s smiley face boxer shorts. Cas grins at him, a gummy, wicked grin that sends electricity down to the tips of Dean’s fingers and the ends of his toes.

“You’re gorgeous,” Castiel tells Dean, plainly.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Cas confirms, “You’d be even more gorgeous naked. You should get that way.”

Dean just nods and shoves his boxers down. He kicks off his socks for good measure, because he knows that Cas doesn’t like it when Dean forgets to take his socks off when they’re about to do something sexy.

“Feelin’ a little underdressed here,” Dean says.

Cas pecks a kiss to Dean’s lips and says, “Lie on the bed.”

And who’s Dean to deny his boyfriend what he wants? He sits down on Cas’ bed, a cramped twin-size thing that Cas has had as long as Dean’s known him. Cas has had the bedsheets since childhood too, black and red and white Mickey Mouse sheets that seem fitting in light of their road trip that starts tomorrow.

Dean watches Cas peel off Donald Duck pajama pants, another goddamn Disney print that makes Dean smile like an asshole because his boyfriend’s a fucking nerd and he adores him for it. Underneath the Donald Duck pajamas, Cas isn’t wearing any underwear, and shit, that’s hot. Cas has got a nice cock. Dean doesn’t have much beyond porn for contrast, but he doesn’t think he needs a point of comparison to know that his boyfriend’s dick is a nice looking dick. Not too thick, all flushed pink with blood, ready to be paid attention it deserves.

Dean jerks his head in invitation and says, “C’mere, you.”

Castiel crawls over Dean’s body and kisses him, long and thorough with those heated strokes of his tongue that make Dean crazy and light him up from the inside out. This was a very good idea, he thinks. He doesn’t know why he didn’t want to go all the way with Cas earlier. He must have been crazy not to want to be tangled up with Cas like a plate of spaghetti.

Having Cas’ arms around him always feels so right. A lot of the time Dean feels crooked, like he doesn’t quite align with where the world thinks that he should be. But when he’s with Cas, everything slides into place and fits, and Dean knows that he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

With gentle hands, Dean pulls Cas down and guides him to switch positions, so Cas lies on his back and Dean boxes him in with his limbs. He kisses Cas’ summer sun-tanned skin on his shoulders and neck and over his nipples, then scoots back up onto his knees. He ends up grabbing Castiel’s Cheshire cat pillow to stuff underneath his back, a technique the internet assures Dean will make anal sex more comfortable for the guy on the receiving end.

“Where’s the lube?” asks Dean.

“Bottom drawer under my calculus notebook,” Cas says, pointing at the bedside table.

Sure enough, when Dean pushes aside a bright yellow spiral notebook covered in Cas’ geometric doodling, there’s a bottle of lubricant with the plastic wrapping still around the lid. Dean sticks his fingernail underneath and peels the stuff away, casting it into the wire mesh wastebasket beside Cas’ desk before he rejoins Cas on the Mickey Mouse bedsheets.

Dean leans down to brush his lips over the curve of Cas’ cheek and says, “Spread your legs open a little more for me, okay? We’re gonna go slow. Everything I read says we gotta do it real slow and _communicate_ , so if something doesn’t feel nice, you gotta say so.”

“I will,” promises Castiel.

Dean slicks up the fingers on his right hand and starts with one, stroking along the cleft of Cas’ ass to his hole. It looks so small against the brush of Dean’s fingers and for a moment Dean wonders if it’s actually possible to fit inside Cas that way. He decides there’s no better way to find out than to try, and he pushes one finger inside Cas to the knuckle.

“How’s that feel?” Dean asks softly. He doesn’t want to wake any of the members of Cas’ family. Nothing would be more awkward now than to have Gabriel walk in, or worse, Cas’ vagrant eldest brother Lucifer who’s currently living on the basement couch with his guitar and questionable sources of income (but Lucifer is the one that bought Cas the lube, so Dean supposes he can’t dislike the guy too much).

“S’good,” Cas murmurs, “More, please.”

Dean thrusts his finger in all the way and starts moving just the one, in and out, in and out, over and over until sweat slicks the front of Castiel’s chest and makes his dark hair stick to his forehead. Dean goes just as slow when he presses the second finger inside. That makes Cas whimper, but when Dean pauses, Cas says, “No, don’t stop. I like it. I like it.”

Steadily, Dean works Cas open. He moves from two fingers to three, trying to remember everything he read about what he should be doing to make sure that Cas is comfortable and feels good. Eventually he manages to massage against Cas’ prostate, something that sends Cas rocketing off of the mattress with a cry that he stifles against his arm.

“Wow, all right,” Dean says, “That gets a thumbs up, I guess.”

Cas just whines.

Dean’s glad that he brought more than one condom, because when Cas says, “I think I’m ready,” he fumbles too hard with the packaging of the first condom and accidentally throws it across the room. Cas laughs at him and Dean sighs, but he gets the second condom over his dick without a hitch and pours lube over his covered erection generously.

Okay. He can do this. His first time with his boyfriend.

Dean lines up his cock. He wants to lean over to kiss Castiel, but he knows that if he looks away from what he’s doing that he’ll probably slip and fuck up somehow. So he pushes the head of his cock past the rim of Castiel’s ass and – oh, _God_. The heat that swallows Dean almost sends him up in instant flames. He has to muffle a groan against Castiel’s sweat-sticky shoulder. Inch by inch, Dean slides inside Castiel. He worries that he might hurt him, but Cas just smiles up at him. Cas’ erection has flagged a little between his legs, but that’s okay. The internet warned Dean that might happen.

Then Dean moves, and his whole world feels like a Disneyland fireworks show. He doesn’t think that he’ll last long at this rate, but he wasn’t expecting to. Now that he’s fully seated inside Cas, it means he can kiss him, and Dean does just that.

They move together in cautious rolls. It isn’t perfect. It’s slippery and messy and Dean doesn’t really know what he’s doing, so he just does what feels best and goes and goes and goes. The taut stretch of an orgasm builds between Dean’s legs all too soon, threatening to break before he’s even had a real chance to enjoy being like this with his boyfriend.

“I’m – I’m gonna,” is all that Dean gets out before he comes, his world exploding into white. He would like nothing more than to collapse on top of Cas and fall asleep, but Castiel still hasn’t gotten his yet – so Dean slips out of Cas only long enough to dispose of the condom in the trashcan (and strategically cover it with a couple of crumpled papers and an empty Chex Mix bag) and return.

Dean kisses Cas’ swollen lips and moves his mouth down, down down. He licks up the shaft of Cas’ cock. This, at least, is familiar. He’s done this for Cas before, and he knows how Cas likes to be teased with his tongue and where his favorite places are.

Apparently Cas is more keyed up than Dean thought, because he comes in Dean’s mouth in mere minutes without as much as a gasp of warning.

When Dean lets his head thump down on the pillow beside Castiel, he’s shaking.

“How do you think we did?” asks Dean.

Cas snorts. He says, “I liked it. I don’t think it’s a competition. I think we’re just supposed to have fun. And I had fun. Did you have fun?”

Dean grins. He can feel how stupid he looks and he doesn’t even care. He says, “Yeah. I had a lot of fun. We should do it again sometime. Shame we can’t with our dumb brothers around.”

“Yeah,” agrees Cas, “but that’s why our moms wanted them to come with us in the first place.” He yawns, then adds, “I’m really excited for tomorrow. You’re a good boyfriend. You’re my favorite boyfriend.”

“I’m your only boyfriend,” Dean says.

“Yeah, and you’re my favorite,” Cas says. It’s the last thing he says before he’s out like a light.


End file.
